


Rosie's Home

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Baby Watson, F/M, Incomplete, M/M, Mary in jail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-11 06:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8959084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: With Mary in prison for her crimes, John moves back into 221B Baker Street with Sherlock and the baby. Rosamund Mary Watson finds her home with Uncle Sherlock and Nana Hudson.





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [argentiniandownpoursendsitslove](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=argentiniandownpoursendsitslove).



> It's about to get real fluffy :)

Two weeks after Mary's arrest. Two weeks after the truth came out. That's how long it took before John would admit that he couldn't do it on his own. He had a newborn daughter and no idea what to do. He couldn't stay in the house he'd bought with Mary. Too many memories. After learning that she had lied to him about everything, he'd gotten a divorce and tried his hardest to raise their daughter. But soon enough, he realized he needed help. He couldn't handle it all on his own. So he moved back in with Sherlock just two weeks after his ex-wife's arrest. 

"Don't you worry, love. Uncle Sherlock will be happy to have you and me home," John cooed as he carried his bags to the door. He didn't have much to bring home, but he'd packed up everything he did have as well as Rosamund's things. Even her cot and pushchair were in the car. The cabbie was helping him carry everything in as Mrs. Hudson opened the door for him. She, of course, fawned over the baby, holding little Rosie so John could carry more. Sherlock was, however, hiding away in the kitchen.

"Sherlock, come on. Come meet your goddaughter," John insisted as he came up the stairs. "And put whatever you're working on away before the ba--" he started before seeing what Sherlock had. It was a miniature chemistry set. "What's that for?" he asked.

"For.....For Rosamund. It's a gift for my goddaughter. Though that tradition is out of date and pointless apart from the legal aspects of it," Sherlock told him, handing over the chemistry set. "I cleaned out the second bedroom again, if you'd like it. I thought you and Rosamund might be able to use it."

Sherlock had never really admitted to it, but he did hold a particularly strong affection for John. Oh, who was he kidding. William Sherlock Scott Holmes was in love with John Hamish Watson. And now that Mary was in jail, he actually had a chance. The only thing standing in his way was the baby. How could he get John to forget about Mary when they had a child together? He had to try though.

"Well.....thank you," John murmured, a bit surprised. "But, uh....I think it might be a bit too crowded for us both to sleep in there. And I don't really want to be on separate floors. So I figured I'd sleep on the sofa and Rosie's cot could be in the sitting room with me."

"If that's what you'd prefer," Sherlock answered with a nod.

 _No, I'd prefer to share a bed with you, you idiot. But I can't say that because you don't feel that way_ , John thought to himself.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to go ahead and move back in. Rosie's with Mrs. Hudson, so she shouldn't be any trouble," John commented before beginning to move everything in. Sherlock disappeared shortly after and John simply assumed that he was leaving the flat for peace and quiet, or perhaps even for a case. But a few hours later, when John went to retrieve his daughter from Mrs. Hudson, he saw a head of messy curls from the doorway and noticed Sherlock seemed to be holding something. As he came closer, John smiled to see Sherlock was cradling Rosie and feeding her with one of her bottles that John had brought. It was sweet and gentle, something he certainly hadn't expected from Sherlock.

"There we are. Much better," the detective hummed, setting the bottle aside and burping the baby girl gently before just holding her close. 

"Sorry to interrupt the tender moment, but I've got everything ready upstairs. You can come back now," John commented. "I think Rosie would like to spend a little more time with Uncle Sherlock though. And so would I. We've got some catching up to do," he chuckled before heading back upstairs.

Sherlock blushed, but nodded and followed John back to their flat. All that night, they talked and grew just as close as they had been before. It felt great being together again, though not as together as they would've both liked to be. Once Rosie was asleep, Sherlock placed her in her cot and both men sat together on the sofa. They talked for hours until both of them ended up falling asleep draped over one another all night.


	2. Growing Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosie's getting older and starting to notice things....

Over the next few years as Rosie grew up, she started picking up on things. Sherlock taught her how to play deductions and it had quickly become her favourite thing to do. Today they were at it again, observing the people from Sherlock's favourite spot in Angelo's by the window.

"Gay," the seven year old commented as someone walked past. "Single. Newspaper worker."

"Very good. Anything else?" Sherlock pressed. He noticed plenty more, but she was just getting started. He didn't expect her to see all of it just yet.

"Umm..........He has a kitty!" she chirped happily, grinning with pride as she spotted the evidence. 

"Excellent!" Sherlock praised, giving her a chocolate biscuit. "See? I told you you could do it. Your father will be so proud of how far you've come."

Taking the biscuit eagerly, Rosie munched on it as she listened and continued to smile. "Uncle Sherlock," she eventually began to ask, mouth still full of biscuits. "How come you and Daddy don't sleep together?"

Sherlock stopped for a moment, taking in the question before sighing. "Well, he and I are friends," he began to explain.

"But you love him!" Rosie insisted.

"Yes, I do, but--"

"An' he loves you!" 

Sherlock stopped for a minute then. "Not like that," he sighed.

"Yeah huh!" Rosie argued. "He does. He wants to go in your room! Pretty please?"

Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle at the pleading. "He's welcome to do so if he wants. But not just because you want us to do that. Okay?" he explained.

Rosie nodded happily, smiling at her uncle. "Uh huh!" he answered, then happily left the restaurant, holding Sherlock's hand the whole way home.

When they arrived, Sherlock went to his room to start working on another experiment while Rosie joined her father on the sofa. Now that she was older, he'd given her the upstairs bedroom while he slept on the sofa. 

"Daddy," she told him, kicking her feet as she sat next to him. "Uncle Sherlock says you can sleep in his room now."

John paused in his reading on his laptop then, looking over at his daughter. "Rosie, love, did you tell Uncle Sherlock what we talked about yesterday?" he asked.

Rosie nodded and smiled. "Uh huh!"

"Even though I told you not to?"

She was quiet for a moment before nodding. 

John sighed. "Sweetie, Daddy isn't angry. But you shouldn't have told. You understand that, right?" he asked.

Rosie nodded. 

"Okay, good. Now why don't you go to your room and play for a bit? I need to talk with Uncle Sherlock," John told her.

Rosie headed for her room then, happy to play on her own. She didn't have many friends to play with, after all. John, on the other hand, headed for Sherlock's room. Knocking before letting himself in, he shut the door behind himself. 

"Sherlock? We need to talk," John announced as he walked towards the man. "Put the experiment down and look at me, okay? I know what Rosie said to you."

"It's nothing to worry about, John. I understand. She clearly wasn't supposed to tell me. And perhaps she didn't understand you correctly. But you don't need to make excuses for--" he started, but was soon interrupted.

"She understood perfectly. We were talking last night and I eventually told her that I do love you. Romantically, physically. And then I had to explain what I meant. But she hasn't had that talk yet, so I just told her it meant I wanted to share a bed with you," John insisted.

Sherlock was silent for a moment, a rare occurrence. But eventually, he responded, "Okay."

From that day on, there was a mutual understanding between them. They shared a bed and slowly became comfortable showing their affection with one another. Rosie got used to it too and seemed happy that they were finally admitting how they felt about one another. She got to grow up with two dads, even if they weren't married or even calling each other boyfriends. And they were pretty awkward in public. But she loved it.


	3. The Teen Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosie's a teenager now and boy did she inherit her mother's rebellious streak

"I'm going out, don't wait up!" Rosie shouted as she came down from her room, heavy black boots stomping against the stairs as she jogged down. 

"Just a minute," John called back. "Come in here, young lady. You know the rules."

Rosie groaned, but came in, knowing better than to actually ignore them. Usually she could sneak out. But pretending to obey the rules was an important part of keeping her freedom. But one rule she'd always hated was that they had to know where she was going, who she'd be with, how long she expected to be out, and they had to approve of what she was wearing. Which rarely happened on the first try. But she always managed to wear what she wanted anyway. They just didn't have to know. 

"Yeah?" Rosie groaned, crossing her arms over her chest. She'd developed rather well once puberty hit and was a beautiful young lady in her fathers' eyes. She was already 5'5" with a 34C bust and quite noticeable curves. Her thin, dark blonde hair cascaded down to her lower back with loose curls towards the bottom. Her grey-blue eyes seemed to see right through everyone and everything in an instant. Her pale complexion spoke of rainy London days where she'd have seen little sun most of the time. Today she wore a short sapphire blue skirt and a white lace top with tiny jewels sewn into it. The blue pumps she donned gave the illusion of even more height and suggested the skirt was even shorter than it was. There was also a gap between the top and the skirt, showing a band of skin around her waist. 

"Absolutely not," John told her when she came in. "You're not going out like that."

"Why not?!" Rosie complained indignantly. 

"Because you're showing way too much skin," he answered. 

"I'm going to Ollie's party," she insisted.

"Not like that. Shorter shoes, longer skirt, cover your midriff. Then you can go," John told her firmly. 

"Papa!" she whined, looking to Sherlock.

"That will attract far too much attention. Follow your father's instructions and you can go," Sherlock answered without looking at her. He knew what she was wearing and he knew how to answer her complaints. 

"Ugh! You're so unfair!" Rosie shouted, stomping back upstairs. When she came down again, she was in a much more modest dress and flats. "There. Happy now?" she huffed, brushing a piece of hair away from her face.

"Much better. Now out with the rest of it," John demanded. 

"Ollie's house. Party. Whoever's been invited. 11 pm," she rattled off.

"Excuse me?" John asked.

"She'll be at Oliver Lestrade's house at the party until eleven o'clock this evening. She'll be with whomever's been invited," Sherlock clarified.

"Curfew is 10 o'clock and you know it. You'll be home by then," John told her firmly, then cut her off as she tried to argue. "10 pm or you're grounded. Call if something happens and you have to be late."

Rosie huffed, but nodded and left for the party. Of course, she had a backup plan. The previous outfit was on the fire escape in a garment bag waiting for her as she came into the alleyway outside her room. Grabbing the dress, she caught a cab and changed in the back on the way to the party. Her purse, small with a silver strap, contained her makeup, phone, some cash, a pen, and two condoms. Her modest dress could be put aside in the closet at the party and put back on before she went home. She always managed to sneak this past her parents. At least, she usually could. But tonight was a little different.

Tonight when Rosie returned, at 10 pm of course, she was rushing to her room with a hand over her neck. 

"Fun party, love?" John asked as she walked through the room on her way upstairs.

"Yeah, but I'm really tired. I think I'll go to bed," she answered quickly, hurrying upstairs. 

She managed to make it upstairs only to be followed by Sherlock. She should've known she couldn't hide it from him.

"You and I both know what's on your neck," he commented, shutting the door. "You wore the other outfit, didn't you? The one we told you not to wear? And you were kissing multiple boys. One of whom left a parting gift on your neck."

"Maybe....." Rosie murmured, then let her hand fall with a sigh. Sure enough, there was a hickey on her neck. "It was two boys. And the hickey isn't that big a deal. The outfit was cute anyway and I felt good in it."

"You knew better. I won't tell your dad this time. But next time I will. For now, a yellow-based concealer with a layer of green concealer over it and foundation with a touch of powder on top should hide it from him," he told her. "It's small enough, he shouldn't notice it. Everything you need is in your makeup bag. I trust you can handle it. No more of this or I tell him. Remember."

He left the room then, letting her handle it. It sure was a juggling act trying to raise a teenager. And Rosie was incredibly rebellious.


End file.
